


The Devil Made Me Do It

by BeautyInChains



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Clayton and Steve, Consent, Consent is Sexy, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Electrocution, Erotic Electrostimulation, Frottage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Painplay, On the Spot, Rutting, We go from Dubious Consent to Enthusiastic Consent pretty quick, shock collar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-02 02:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20970695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautyInChains/pseuds/BeautyInChains
Summary: "Well, I figure we should practice. You know, before the show.""Right. That makes sense. So I just, uh," Blaine raises a brow, mimes pressing the button and Chris' breath catches in his throat."Yup.""Just, hit the button," Blaine says. He's stalling and Chris is ready to grab the fucking remote and just do it himself.





	The Devil Made Me Do It

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in ages, and when I finally did sit down to write today I was expecting to write some Unsolved porn. I have never written for Rooster Teeth OR Unsolved. But after watching the latest On The Spot I just could not get this out of my head. I'm hoping I am not the only one who had feelings about Blaine electrocuting Chris. Also, are they in a relationship in this story? Yes? No? Maybe? You decide!
> 
> Hope someone is able to enjoy this pile of filth I have spewed ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ No beta. We die like men.

"You-You're sure about this?" Blaine asks. His brows are furrowed, lips twisted into some sort of uncertain grimace. He's holding the remote at arm's length, in an open palm as though afraid the thing might actually shock him instead of Chris. Chris toys with the collar around his neck. The prospect of being electrocuted, by Blaine no less, has him feeling a bit warm and the material is beginning to chafe not altogether unpleasantly.

"I am. Positive! I mean, come on, it'll be hilarious!"

"Won't it hurt?"

_That's sweet_, is what Chris wants to say. _That's the point_. _I want it to hurt_. He worries his bottom lip as he considers what an appropriate response might sound like.

"Nah. Well, barely. But it'll be worth it for the gag."

"The gag," Blaine says slowly. It's not a question. He brings his arm in, fingers curling around the little black remote. It's on. Chris knows this because he's the one who turned it on and set it to five. Blaine's thumb glides across the buttons, not pushing. "How am I gonna know if it's too much? If I'm hurting you?"

Chris hums, toes curling in his shoes.

"Well, we could, ah, we could have a -"

"Safe word?" _Fuck_.

"...c-code word. Yeah."

"Something we could work into the _gag_." The way Blaine says gag makes Chris feel like Blaine is on to him, makes him feel like he's been caught, and fuck if that isn't doing something else for Chris. "Something Satanic? Something devilish?"

Chris' eyes are glued to Blaine's thumb, purposefully poised over the shiny black button that Chris wants him to press so much. The anticipation is killing him. The blood has been draining steadily from Chris' brain and pooling in his cock and he's at least half hard in his chinos. Blaine has to know what a tease he's being. So close to giving Chris what he needs. Chris licks his lips. "We don't need it right now, though. Do we? We're just...practicing. I could just say stop. And you'd stop."

Blaine meets his eye with a seriousness that Chris had previously believed Blaine incapable of.

"I'd stop."

"I know you'd stop."

"Good."

"Good," Chris agrees, "Now that we've established you're real good at stopping, do you wanna try, you know, starting?"

"Right now?"

"Well, I figure we should practice. You know, before the show."

"Right. That makes sense. So I just, uh," Blaine raises a brow, mimes pressing the button and Chris' breath catches in his throat.

"Yup."

"Just, hit the button," Blaine says. He's stalling and Chris is ready to grab the fucking remote and just do it himself.

"Blaine, I-_ah_!" Chris yelps, fingers flying instinctively to the collar, to the meat of his neck where he can still feel the electricity coursing through his veins. He feels an answering throb in his pants and flushes head to toe.

"Oh shit, man. Hey, was that too much?" Blaine's reaching out, stupid brows furrowed now in genuine concern and Chris finds himself slapping at Blaine's outstretched hand.

"No, fuck. No, it was good. Fine. It was _fine_." Chris realizes that he probably doesn't look fine, between the flush on his cheeks, the sweat beading along his brow, and the way he's hunched over his burgeoning erection. He shifts his weight and straightens up in such a way he hopes his cock is slightly less obvious. And, shockingly, Blaine's not looking entirely unaffected himself. He's gone pink along the cheekbones, mouth just slightly agape. "It just surprised me. It was fine," he says again, "No big deal. You could, uh, you could hit me again. Amp it up a little."

Blaine checks the setting, looks a bit dubiously at Chris who is doing his darnedest to keep it in his pants.

"Not all the way. But, maybe, like a seven?"

"And if it's too much-"

"Then I'll say stop. And you'll stop. And we won't do it again."

The wheels are clearly turning, Chris can see that much. He curls his hands into fists at his sides, blunt nails digging into the flesh of his palms. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth if only to stop himself from saying please. And then it's happening again. The initial shock jolts him into action, limbs jerking without permission, a moan spilling past his lips as the electricity rolls through him. He sways on his feet, but Blaine is there, catching Chris by the front of his sweat dampened t-shirt. Chris' nose bumps against Blaine's shoulder on impact and he moans again despite himself. Blaine, hot solid slab of man that he is, smells so fucking good, and Chris is in _big_ trouble.

"Oh fuck."

"Oh fuck is right," Blaine murmurs. Chris doesn't realize his hard cock is pressed against Blaine's thigh until he makes to pull away.

"Blaine, I-"

"The gag, huh?"

"What?" Chris slurs and suddenly he realizes that he's the stupid one.

"You couldn't just tell me?" Blaine lets the hand he has fisted in Chris' shirt drop, curls his fingers into the waistband of Chris' pants instead and pulls until Chris' cock is flush against Blaine's hip, hard and unmistakable. "That's a pretty dirty trick, Demarais."

"I don't-_ahh_, oh fuck, _fuck_, Blaine." Blaine smirks at the way Chris jerks against him.

"Seven, huh? I think we could go higher. I think you want it to go higher."

"Please," Chris gasps, and there it is. The pleading he had been trying to swallow. Blaine grunts, rolls his hips into Chris' and it becomes clear that Chris is not the only one enjoying himself.

"Did you do this to yourself, before?" Chris nods helplessly. "Jesus, Chris. Did you come?"

"What do you th-_shit, fuck_," Chris spits, the latest jolt making him that much harder.

"Try that again, without the attitude," Chris shivers at the authoritative tone, shivers as Blaine's eyes rove over him, "I said, did you come?"

"Christ, yeah. Yes. _Fuck_, Blaine."

"You gonna do it again?"

Chris mewls, pressing his face into Blaine's chest and inhaling deeply as he ruts against Blaine with purpose. "God, yeah, just-_ah_," Chris' words die in his throat, hips stuttering as Blaine shocks him again, "Fuck, just don't stop." Blaine wraps his arms around Chris' trembling body, drawing him up tight as he works their hips into a steady, filthy grind. Chris nips at Blaine's jaw, mouths at the sweat collecting there.

"Ten?" Blaine growls.

"What?" Chris whines, half out of his mind with the need to come.

"Can you take ten?"

"Yeah, yeah, _Blaine_."

Apparently Blaine is done teasing because the ten hits Chris fast and hard, once and then twice, and then Chris is shaking and sobbing and coming. Chris can hear Blaine swearing, feel him clutching at Chris' hips, rutting against him mercilessly. Chris tips his head up and back, catching Blaine's bottom lip between his teeth and then Blaine's following with a moan. Chris can feel Blaine's cock pulse against him, hot warmth flooding his jeans and soaking through the fabric.

"Oh my God, I'm fucking dead."

Blaine laughs, bumping their foreheads together, "Not dead," he says, running his fingers along the collar, still secure around Chris' neck.

Chris can feel Blaine's heart hammering against his chest, "Decidedly not dead," he agrees after a moment.

"Next time you have an idea for a _gag_," Blaine rumbles and Chris can hear the way he laughs around the word 'gag', "Just ask me, man. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay," Chris says, mulling it over as he basks in the pleasant, post-orgasmic haze.

"So you, uh, you really wanna do this in front of all those people?"

Chris' cheeks pink at the implication. He shrugs. "I don't _not_ wanna do it."

"You're fuckin' filthy, Demarais."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't hearing any complaints a few minutes ago."

"Nope. And you're not gonna."


End file.
